


Little Things

by AgentExile



Series: Living Costs Minis [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18039977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentExile/pseuds/AgentExile
Summary: 5 times that Ten realises Taeyong is ‘The One’.And 1 time he tries to explain why to his ring designer.





	1. 1 + 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it’s me! Those of you who follow me on twitter will know that I’ve been working on a new Living Costs project recently! As of today, it’s three weeks until the one year anniversary on which I posted the first chapter and I’ve had a little side-project in the works to celebrate. Of this three chapter fic, I’ll upload one chapter per week until the 1 year ^-^
> 
> BIG AUTHOR NOTE: If you clicked on this fic and aren’t familiar with my work [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455), please be aware that this is a side-fic, and it probably won’t make much sense without having read the parent work!  
> This mini-fic tells six moments from the course of Living Costs, from Ten’s perspective.  
> May x

   1.

   The apartment was so quiet that if a pin were to drop, it would probably echo. Ten very rarely played music at home, and he didn’t like to have the television on. He was free from outside noise because his apartment was nestled away in the quietest corner of Seoul’s most expensive gated complex; there was hardly going to be passing traffic. And above all, the apartment was _empty_.

   Ten didn’t like to invite people into his personal space.

   Today, though, it felt… cavernously silent.

   Worse than usual.

   _Worse_. Once upon a time, he’d considered the quiet a good thing. He had always relished his peace. Now, though, the quieter that it got, the more the absence of sound seemed to eat away at him. He couldn’t ignore it. It was more distracting than noise would be.

   He picked up his phone, thinking that maybe he could text Yukhei or Doyoung to ask if they wanted to go out. But that was stupid. He had a flight to catch in the morning, and it was too late to request the company of his friends. Besides, they were probably all cosied up by now: Doyoung with his husband, Yukhei with his boyfriend. They didn’t have to worry about the quiet that came with being alone.

   With one hand, he flicked through his messages, and then he switched to the news app. Then, he closed it and threw his phone down on the couch. He wasn’t in the mood for business.

   He sighed, and then picked up his phone again.

   _Don’t. It’s ridiculous_.

   He ignored the voice in his head and scanned across to the pink app that he’d buried deep in the third page of a grouping where no one would ever see it. It was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever featured in his life, and unsurprisingly, Yukhei was to blame. ‘ _Just get a fucking sugar baby_ ,’ he’d said, or something to that effect, like that wasn’t the stupidest idea in the entire world.

And Ten was the idiot who had listened to him.

   Or he’d tried.

   Two mortifying dates later, and he’d shut away the app never to look at it again. Ten wasn’t exactly the sugar daddy _type_. The last thing he wanted was someone fawning over him, and he wasn’t some old guy looking for a younger date. The only benefit of the whole dumb system was that he would be able to find a partner with minimal effort: he was amongst the richest men in the country, and he was young and good-looking enough that it hadn’t taken long for the requests to come rolling in.

   Ten had never been able to do… normal dating. He was too busy. How the hell could he support someone through their emotional trials and encourage them towards their life aspirations and provide them with love and affection and warmth when he spent minimum fourteen hours of his day in the office?

   Work.

   Work was Ten’s life.

   Time, he had none of. Emotional availability? Even less. Money, though, well _money_ he had in abundance.

   So Yukhei’s idea, whether it had been a joke or not, had some kind of appeal.

   But the people on the app weren’t his type. They were all too young and too loud and too… too _attractive_. Ten saw himself with someone understated, someone his age, someone… someone he could talk about art with and bring with him on his business trips to nice restaurants, and someone who would go home at the end of the night to their _own_ life, not dependent on him for anything other than the money.

   He didn’t even want a hook-up.

   He just wanted a few hours a week where he wasn’t shut away either in his office or in this apartment, a few hours were the quiet didn’t press in around his eardrums with deafening volume.

   So he scrolled through the app again, on a wing and a prayer, hoping for… something.

   He swiped back to the settings and switched off his advanced filters, the ones that specified age, to filter out anyone more than a couple of years younger than him, the ones that filtered out _students_ and showed him only young professionals. _Fuck it_. Maybe he could find an Art History grad student or something.

   He scrolled again, this time with even less conviction.

   At the point of throwing the phone away altogether, probably at the wall, he paused, and scrolled back up rapidly. He’d been moving at such a pace that his brain was slow to register.

   He cocked his head sideways at the small icon, and then tapped the profile.

   The picture.

   What a photo.

   Ten had an unusual relationship with beauty. He liked it, he loved it, in fact he _craved_ it. He had an art collection worth more than his apartment ten times over, which he curated with true reverence. When he saw a beautiful thing, he had to have it. He snatched it up at auction, he made friends with the right people, he could even be brutal when it came to claiming his art.

   But people were different. There weren’t many who he would call beautiful.

   There were plenty of attractive people. Being best friends with Yukhei, who knew every single person in the music industry, he was no stranger to stunning people. Just being _rich_ he’d encountered idols and models and actors, everyone who had perfect bone structure and perfect hair and faultless fucking… ratios.

   But he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a person with true _beauty_.

   Beauty was different.

   And this boy had it.

   Ten scanned his eyes over every pixel of the screen, unblinking.

   He was young, though not too young, probably in his early twenties, and undeniably _pretty._ Yes, he had the bone structure and the perfect hair and the ratios and all that shit too. But there was something else, something in his eyes, that was where Ten saw the beauty.

   His irises were wide and dark, much wider than Ten had ever noticed on a person unedited before. His eyes sparkled, and they _really_ sparkled, not just a trick of the light. It was as though he’d been caught in a laugh, a precious moment captured in this photo, joy stored away in it forever. Radiant. He was radiant.

   He had a shock of pink hair, falling all around his face like soft little feathers. That made Ten smile. _He_ dyed his hair too, though nothing this garish of course, but it was kind of his trademark in the business world.

   He quickly flitted off the picture and looked at the profile with more intent this time.

   “ _Kittyong._ ”

That was his username. _Oh come on_ , Ten’s internal voice said as though it could even roll its eyes, but Ten’s lips were twitching to a smile. It was silly, but it was cute. _Yong_. That had to be part of his name then.

   His lips shaped the sound though he didn’t say it out loud.

   “ _Age: twenty-two._ ”

   “ _Likes: Candy, Clothes, and Cute Things._ ”

   Ten’s heart was fluttering in a way that it hadn’t for a very long time. This wasn’t what he’d come onto the app looking for. _Candy clothes and cute things_ were all the sorts of things that Ten _didn’t_ enjoy. Maybe, though, that was what made it charming – made _him_ charming.

   _Opposites attract_.

   He scrolled down further.

   “ _Looking for: Someone to take care of me_.”

   Ten’s inner-voice groaned. _No, no no no,_ no. That was when it might as well have been over for the sensible, rational part of his brain. This? This hit him where he was vulnerable.

   Ten had always had a need, a fundamental borderline- _pathological_ need, to take care of people. Sometimes, it was so bad that he took care of people even when they didn’t _want_ him to, and it had been a source of many disagreements with his best friends when he became too overbearing. But he couldn’t help it.

   It had started as a kid. He’d still been tiny himself when his little sister was born, but he’d grown up fast when it became obvious that she was sick. His father went to work but his mom had to quit, had to care for her almost full time, and it was the least that Ten could do to lift that burden off her for even a few hours. He’d taken to spending his afternoons, after school, taking care of her while his mom got some sleep. He’d learned to administer medication, and what to do in an emergency, and how to take care of a baby and then a toddler and then a child, even when he was only a kid himself.

   Then, as he’d got a little older, he’d started to understand money. He’d realised that his parents couldn’t afford to support the family, not with two kids to feed and all of the added costs. So he’d left. He’d found himself a full-ride scholarship and he’d moved to Seoul, so far away that his parents would never have to worry. There, he’d set up his business. He’d started to send money home. He’d bought cheap things and sold them to rich kids for an inflated price that they were too spoiled to recognise, and taken the money and used it to support his family.

   By sixteen, he was as much of a provider as his own father.

   Through school and through college he’d cared for his best friends: for Doyoung, who struggled to fit in and who was upset by details of life that others didn’t pay attention to, that only Ten would deal with for him; and for Yukhei, who replaced the gap that his complete _absence_ of familial support had left, with a personality so loud that sometimes it was too much even for himself, which manifested first at school in misbehaviour and then in college as partying to a point of unhealthy excess.

   Now, Ten was an adult.

   A very wealthy adult.

   And he wanted to take care of this one. He needed to. He absolutely had to.

   _Fuck_.

   He fell so fast, so fast for the very idea of him, of _them_ , that he could barely control the thud of his heart. He needed to message him _now_ , before someone else got there first. He couldn’t allow this boy to be picked up by some… some _creep_ , someone who would exploit him or take advantage of him or treat him badly. Ten was a lot of things – a workaholic, and a bit of a snob these days – but he wasn’t… a bad person, and this boy deserved someone who would treat him right.

   Ten had to message him now. He’d never find another boy like him on here. He was the one.

   He picked up his glass of red wine and drained it entirely. Then he poured another, and drank that too, like some kind of liquid courage. There was something strangely intimidating about this boy, like he was too… _fun_ , for Ten. Oh _God_ what if he thought Ten was boring?

   He tapped out three messages, then erased them all. He didn’t just want to say… _hi_. This boy deserved better than that. He deserved fun and cute and charming and all of the things that Ten didn’t consider himself in tune with at all.

   He sighed, then glanced back at his username.

   Then he typed:

   _Hey, pretty kitty._

   2.

   It had been a very, very long time since Ten had been on a date that made him nervous, that he really, truly cared about..

   In fact, it had been so long that he dared not try to put a number on the years.

   He adjusted his cuffs for something to do. The way that others would bite their nails or tap on the table, Ten always played with his cufflinks. It drove his friends up the wall, especially when they were playing poker and he could fake his tell with such proficiency that they always fell for it, but he couldn’t kick the habit.   

   To try to distract himself, he concentrated on his newspaper. He seemed to be hyperaware of everything, though. First, his glasses seemed to be sitting wrong on the ridge of his nose, so he pushed them further up, but then he regretted wearing them altogether and wondered whether he should have worn his contacts. Then, his tie seemed too tight, so he fiddled nervously with it, loosening it a little but then tightening it back up because he didn’t want Taeyong to think he was scruffy.

   Taeyong.

   It had been several weeks, now, since Ten had first messaged him. They had video-called twice, and they had texted what had to be progressing from the hundreds to the _thousands_ of times. Ten had learned his name, _Taeyong_ , such a beautiful name. He liked how it sounded when he said it out loud to himself. He’d learned that Taeyong was a student, a music student, and that he worked far too hard, multiple jobs.

   That was something that Ten wanted to resolve _very_ quickly.

   He wanted to resolve it because he’d worked himself, through college – he’d dedicated more time to the company than he had to his classwork – and it had been so exhausting that he couldn’t bear the thought of Taeyong living through that too, not out of necessity.

   Ten glanced at his watch and then looked up. He’d arrived in the square forty minutes early, just in case, but now it was around the time that he expected Taeyong to arrive. And sure enough, it was as though he had sensed him, because he could see him now, across a short distance interrupted by tables.

   _God_ he looked beautiful. More beautiful than he had in the photos or on the videos.

   He was wearing a dress shirt, and a sort of fashion tie, but he couldn’t have fit in any _less_ with the businessmen around them. The shirt slipped when he walked, open so low that Ten could see his clavicles. His hair was almost white, now, half tucked under a soft pink beret. He looked taller than Ten had expected, the lines enhanced by drainpipe jeans and low-heeled leather boots.

   Oh _shit_ what if he thought Ten was too short?

   Ten hadn’t worried about his height since he was a teenager, really, when he’d finally accepted that Doyoung and Yukhei were going to shoot past him. In the business world he carried such a presence that he could intimidate anyone over 6 foot anyway. But now, suddenly, he felt shy. Taeyong had looked smaller in his pictures.

   All of this ran through his mind in a split second before he forced himself to stand up and conjure a smile. ‘Taeyong,’ he breathed, once he’d stood up from his bow, ‘you look amazing.’

   ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ Taeyong’s voice was shy. He tilted his head slightly so that his bangs fell over his eyes as he spoke. There was a pretty pink flush to his cheeks.

   Ten could feel himself being analysed as he pulled out his chair for him, though Taeyong clearly tried to hide it, but Ten wouldn’t have minded if he openly appraised him. Ten never hid that sort of thing, after all, and sure enough when Taeyong sat, he spent several seconds memorising every detail of his face in person.

   He felt his eyes narrow slightly.

   Close up, Taeyong looked tired. Too tired. He was wearing make-up, Ten could see, a little concealer under his eyes, but it didn’t hide the dark shadow there entirely. When he talked, it was like he was constantly biting back a yawn.

   They went through small-talk, through Ten buying Taeyong a coffee and a cake, and all the while Ten thought, he thought and thought and thought about what to say. How could he fix all this? Fix those dark circles? They went through the motions, they went through all the awkward first date moments, but Ten wasn’t nervous about those anymore because he was so distracted by his thoughts.

   At one point, he gave him the little present that he’d bought for him in Paris a few days earlier, a bracelet.

   Ten put it on for him, his fingertips brushing over his hand, over his wrists. Those wrists were far too thin. Ten frowned, worried that he might not be eating enough.

   ‘Thank you,’ Taeyong whispered, eyes wide. He stared down at it like Ten had just given him the Pink Star diamond. He touched over the box, _Hermès,_ with such veneration that Ten knew in a second that he’d never been given something of monetary value, not of his very own.

   ‘I was hoping you’d wear it this weekend,’ he said aloud, though inside he was thinking: _I’ll buy you everything you’ve ever wanted and more_.

   ‘What’s happening this weekend?’

   ‘There’s a charity reception at my company on Saturday night,’ said Ten. This, he hadn’t planned. It slipped out without him really thinking about it. All he could think about was that he wanted to see Taeyong again as soon as possible; he was already dreading the thought of this date ending but he had to get to a meeting soon.

   ‘I have work. I can switch shifts though. I’ll - ’

   ‘Taeyongie, darling,’ said Ten, ‘I know we haven’t really discussed the terms of our relationship yet, but let me make my position very clear. You don’t have to worry about all that anymore. You’re with me now. I’ll take care of things.’

   Ten wasn’t sure exactly what a sugar daddy was supposed to do. When he’d looked it up online, he’d found that most guys paid money for dates, or they bought expensive presents, or, on some occasions, they provided a sort of _allowance_. Those ideas were… well, they didn’t sit right with him.

   Except for the gift part. He certainly wanted to spoil Taeyong with far more than just a bracelet.

   But he wanted… more.

   He didn’t want to give Taeyong a wad of cash from his wallet at the end of a date. It felt… too clinical, too…

   He tried to clear his mind. The last thing he wanted was for Taeyong to feel like he needed to see more and more of him, eat more into his own time, just to try to add up the cash until he could afford what he needed.

   No.

   Ten wanted… he wanted to _take care of him._

He’d wanted to take care of him from the moment he’d seen his picture. Now, though, sitting opposite him, he knew finally the extent to which this care would need to reach for him to feel happy with it.

   So fuck what a sugar daddy usually did. Ten had his own plan, and his own plan was whatever Taeyong needed. Money was no object to Ten. He had so much of it that he could fund Taeyong for the rest of his life and not even notice the outgoings.    

   When Ten had graduated college after a childhood and an adolescence and a young adulthood of nothing but work, he’d been so exhausted, so jaded, so defeated, that it had taken years for him to feel like he had truly recovered.

   He wouldn’t let that happen to Taeyong.

   He’d pay his rent, his bills, his tuition, whatever Taeyong needed, so that he could spend the remainder of his time at college having fun with his friends and keeping up with his schoolwork and -

   Taeyong stared, eyes wide. There was a look in them that made Ten want to smile and to cry. _Hope_. He wanted to smile because it was there, and cry because circumstances had meant that it had to be. ‘You… you’ll…?’

   ‘From now on, I’ll look after you. I promise. No more night shifts - I don’t want you losing sleep because of something as trivial as money, okay?’

   ‘Ten – I –’ Relief was etched all over his face, with such candidness that Ten could hardly believe it. Taeyong looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, like everything that had pressed down upon him for years was suddenly weightless. He smiled, a dazzling smile that made Ten’s well-protected heart shatter.

   Ten took his hand and squeezed it gently. This… this was perfect.

   He didn’t need to date Taeyong, he wasn’t looking for anything physical necessarily, and he was looking for _feelings_ even less. He wanted someone to talk to, and he wanted to take care of him to the very best of his ability, whether it was as his friend or as his companion or even, if the worst came to the worst, as some faceless benefactor hereon in. He hoped not the latter, but right now he’d take even that if it meant getting rid of the dark circles and making him smile like this forever.

   And well… given that Taeyong was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on, he wouldn’t complain if things got a little more intimate either. Given, too, the flirtatiousness in every message that Taeyong sent, he figured that they were on a good track.

   He thought about his two failed dates from the app before. He thought about how it would look to have Taeyong on his arm at the charity benefit, introducing him to his friends. He thought about how it would feel to watch Taeyong let go of the stress and the tiredness and just be happy, his sweet, funny, charming self.

   No, he wouldn’t be meeting anyone else from the app.

   Taeyong was the one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)
> 
> [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


	2. 3 + 4

   3.

   Whenever Ten had a bad day, he hid it from Taeyong with masterful success. He was fairly certain that it was never betrayed on his face or in his voice or even in his body language, and that was important to him. The whole point of their relationship at its start had been that it required emotional labour from neither of them. Ten could take away Taeyong’s worries with money, and Taeyong could take away Ten’s problems with loneliness. And at the end of the day, they could both go home and get on with their lives. No cost.

   The last thing that Ten wanted was for Taeyong to feel like he had to… counsel him, comfort him, even _console_ him when things were terrible.

   That wasn’t his responsibility.

   New York, though, had put a strain on that.

   It had been the strangest sequence of days, these few perfect hours interrupting the long passages of stress, of tiredness, this constant drain on his mind. In the offices where he spent most of his time, he found himself drifting, daydreaming about Taeyong. He wasn’t excited by the boardroom so much anymore, not in comparison to the warmth that spread across his very soul when he knew that he could spend an evening out to dinner or back in the hotel with Taeyong.

   So perhaps he was… emotionally involved, however much he liked to deny it.

   How could he keep his heart out of it when Taeyong was the one thing that made it beat faster? The one thing that made it feel… whole again, in a way that he hadn’t even realised it had fragmented until he had met him.

   If it was one thing that stood out to Ten above all others from the hours he spent with Taeyong, it was that Taeyong was everything that Ten wanted to be.

   And Ten was already a _lot_ of things.

   He was listed in _Forbes_ as one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the world. He was amongst the richest men in Korea. He’d made a fortune for himself, and perhaps more importantly he’d hacked out a path of success in a life that hadn’t always had a clear path.

   But Taeyong?

   _Taeyong_.

   Taeyong was full of youth and passion and joy; he had a radiant smile that could light up a city, and he looked at the world with such wide-eyed positivity, such kindness, such _excitement_. Ten was almost _envious_.

   Yes, Taeyong was everything he’d ever wanted to be. Positive; selfless; devoted.

   Taeyong was excited by the smallest things. Sometimes, they would be walking down the road, Ten on his way to the office and Taeyong on his way to his college, which was partly in the same direction, and Taeyong would stop dead in the street just to admire a flower in a window box.

   Sometimes, Ten would take a couple more steps before realising that he had stopped, and turn in surprise.

   He would watch Taeyong hold the flower with reverence between his fingers and admire every petal. He would listen as Taeyong described the way that the colour changed with each angle because of the effect of the light. He would wait as Taeyong skipped to catch back up with him, and smile as he apologised for stopping even though Ten would _never_ mind.

   Tonight, in the middle of a street in New York, Ten couldn’t hide his tension, however hard he tried. He was shaken up, knocked off course by what had just happened inside the venue they’d spent the evening in. He’d run into a foe from the past, someone who he didn’t like to have around himself at the best of times, but someone that he absolutely could not have around Taeyong. He would not allow the destructive influences in his life to get their claws into the one perfect thing he had.

   He had sworn to take care of Taeyong, and he would.

   But tonight he was so unsettled that he couldn’t hide it. Taeyong rested his hands gently against his chest and Ten knew that he could feel the rapid thud of his heart.

   ‘We’re all dressed up!’ said Taeyong, with his usual excitement. ‘Oh  _please_ , Ten, I’ve always wanted to see the ballet.’

   The _ballet_. If it had been the truth, had Taeyong _really_ wanted to go, Ten might have fallen in love. He knew that Taeyong wasn’t all that interested in dance, and he wasn’t very good at sitting still for long periods of time, something that Ten had discovered now twice – once, at a long music showcase, and the second time, at an operetta. No, going to the ballet would not be Taeyong’s idea of a fun night out, but Ten knew why he’d said it.

   _Ten_ talked about dance a lot. He couldn’t help it. There had been a fleeting moment, in his childhood, when he’d wanted to pursue dance for his future. He’d been very good at it. But between not having the time to practice, and having a family to take care of, that idea had… fallen to the wayside.

   Taeyong wasn’t saying it for himself, he was saying it for _him_.

   And that made Ten feel… strange.

   His heart seemed to slow from the thumping pace it had kept up since they’d left the party. That was Ten’s job; he was the one who was supposed to do things for Taeyong. His mind seemed clouded, unfocussed, unable to concentrate on anything other than the man in front of him.  

_“ I’ve always wanted to see the ballet.”_

   Those words kept playing around his mind. A lie. But a beautiful one.

   If it had been the truth, he might have fallen in love.

   But it was the fact that it was a lie that meant he fell so fast, so unconditionally, that he didn’t know how to pick himself back up and finish this evening without becoming completely overwhelmed by the feeling in his chest. The realisation that his one beautiful thing had searched around in his mind for something that could make Ten happy?

   _I love him_.

   The words formulated in his mind too quickly.

   He pushed them away as butterflies flooded his stomach.

   _No_.

   That wasn’t the plan. 

   He absolutely, resolutely, completely and entirely, was not supposed to fall in love.

   If that had been his pledge, though, he probably shouldn’t have chosen someone so extraordinarily loveable when he’d flicked through that damned app.

   Because Taeyong was loveable. It was hard for Ten to imagine anyone in the world who wouldn’t fall for him in one way or another, whether as a friend or as a lover or just as a stranger in the street who caught his eye. He was a spark of light, a firework, sometimes a little out of control but always prepared to calm down and concentrate on the care of others.

   Perhaps he and Ten weren’t so different after all.

   ‘What fantasy did you walk out of, Yongie?’ he whispered. He leant in and pressed a kiss to Taeyong’s lips, his temple. He had to pull away too quickly, even though he would have gladly stayed there for a lifetime. When he was that close to Taeyong he could smell the sweet, floral shampoo; he could feel the warmth radiating from his very being. It was intoxicating.

   ‘Come on, let’s go. I fancy a bit of culture,’ Taeyong responded brightly.

   ‘Thank you, Taeyong. Thank you. I don’t know what I ever did without you.’

   It was true.

   These days Ten could hardly remember how it had felt not to have Taeyong at the end of the phone. These last _few_ days, in their hotel room together, he could hardly remember how it had felt not to have Taeyong by his side.

   ‘You slept in the middle of the bed,’ Taeyong said happily. He had taken Ten’s hand and was now swinging their joined arms together as they walked.

   Ten laughed and negotiated his arm around Taeyong’s waist instead. ‘I still sleep in the middle of the bed – you’re the one who wraps around me like a blanket. A really soft, pretty, perfect little blanket.’

   ‘You’re lucky you don’t snore,’ remarked Taeyong, ‘or I wouldn’t be anywhere _near_ as cuddle-prone.’

   Ten pulled a face. ‘I can’t imagine you not wanting to cuddle.’

   For a fleeting moment, he thought of what Yukhei would say if he ever heard him say the word _cuddle_ out loud and he made a mental note to readjust back to work mode as soon as he returned to Korea.

   Taeyong was a very physical person. He threw himself into hugs and could be quite demanding of kisses. If they were on the couch, Taeyong would shuffle across until he was pretty much in his lap.

   All of that was fine. For all his stiff demeanour, Ten was actually quite fond of physical contact too.

   ‘Oh _look_ it’s Sleeping Beauty!’ Taeyong beamed when they reached the entrance of the venue. ‘How appropriate.’

   ‘A whole ballet about the vision I get to enjoy every night,’ smiled Ten.

   His bad mood was evaporating.

   ‘I’m _very_ excited!’ Taeyong announced as Ten pushed his way through the foyer to seek out who he would need to obtain them tickets. ‘Especially for the music!’

   Ten turned and held his hands as he looked into his eyes. Taeyong obviously thought that he was doing a very convincing job of feigning his interest so Ten let him run with it. It was cuter, he thought, to watch him that way.

  ‘Are you aware my sweetheart that _The_ _Sleeping Beauty_ is Tchaikovsky’s longest ballet?’

   Taeyong’s smile faltered.

   ‘Four hours in its original form,’ Ten couldn’t help the small, teasing smile that crept onto his own face.

   ‘ _Four_?’

   ‘We’ll sneak out at the first interval,’ said Ten. He pulled him close and gave him a long, protracted kiss, the sort that he usually reserved for when they were home alone together. ‘Maybe I’ll take you to a jazz club.’

   ‘Are you feeling better?’ whispered Taeyong, and Ten paused, looking at him in surprise.

   ‘Yes, angel, yes I am. I can barely recall what I was angry about.’

   That was… well, a bit of a lie too, but he was getting there. It was hard to think about anything else when he was in the presence of Taeyong.

   Tonight, especially.

   All he could think were those creeping words, those dangerous creeping words: _I love him_.

 

   4.

   ‘I think I’m in love with him.’

   It was the first time that he’d said the words out loud. He _certainly_ hadn’t said them to Taeyong – no, he would never, _ever_ take the risk that Taeyong might not share them in return; his heart would never recover from that. He hadn’t said it to himself either, hadn’t tried them out in front of the mirror – it was easier to pretend they weren’t true when he could bury them deep inside.

   Under the gaze of his two best friends, though, they came tumbling out.

   Yukhei, to his credit, didn’t laugh like Ten had expected. Instead, he just glanced across at Doyoung with a small smirk and then looked back to Ten before saying, ‘welcome to the love club.’

   ‘Perhaps don’t say that ever again, Xuxi,’ said Doyoung.

   Ten looked down. He knew that he shouldn’t be embarrassed, that there was nothing shameful about falling in love, but love was what Doyoung did and what Yukhei did and it _wasn’t Ten_.

   ‘When did you realise?’ asked Doyoung, and his voice was soft, like he _knew_ this was a tough subject for Ten.

   ‘New York,’ said Ten, without hesitation. He remembered it as clear as day.

   Yukhei and Doyoung both stared at him, but as usual it was Yukhei who got the words out first. ‘ _New York?_ Ten that was _ages_ ago.’

   ‘I know.’

   ‘How – you haven’t – you haven’t told him yet?’

   Ten sighed and played with his cufflinks. They were novelty flowers, not at all suited for business, but Taeyong had bought them for him for his birthday. ‘Of course I haven’t. I _can’t_.’

   ‘Why the hell not?’

   ‘Because – you don’t understand. If he doesn’t say it back it’ll _crush_ me, Yukhei. I mean it. If he laughs or if it makes him uncomfortable or if it’s just horribly awkward… He’s this one positive ray of light in my life and if that gets snuffed out I won’t be able to deal with it.’

   ‘Of course he’ll say it back,’ laughed Yukhei, ‘have you _met_ Taeyong? He couldn’t be more in love with you if he tried.’

   ‘It’s complicated, Xuxi.’

   ‘ _Why_?’

   Ten took a deep, deep breath, ready to be far more embarrassed than he already was. But he needed his best friends, their advice, he couldn’t go on without it. ‘Taeyong and I didn’t exactly meet how most couples meet.’ When they both just stared at him, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. ‘What I mean to say is that we met… well we met online.’

   ‘So?’ Yukhei shrugged. ‘Internet dating is normal dating these days, Ten, join us in this century.’

   ‘We met on one of those sites, Xuxi,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘one of those… you know… the ones you told me about.’ He straightened up, determined to face his humiliation square on. NCT’s Ten did _not_ hide. ‘The sugar daddy websites.’

   Saying it out loud, in the presence of his friends, made it feel worse.

   What the _hell_ had he got himself into?

   Yukhei snickered.

   ‘Laugh again and they’ll never find your body, Yukhei,’ Ten snapped.

   Yukhei put up two defensive hands. ‘I’m not laughing, not at that anyway,’ he said though there was still a hint of it in his voice, ‘it’s just that I’ve just been wondering for ages how long it would take you to confess.’

   Doyoung looked at both of them blankly. ‘What’s a sugar-’

   He didn’t need to finish the question. How his one friend who knew everything didn’t know _this_ , Ten couldn’t fathom, but he didn’t particularly want the added pain of having to explain the term so he rounded back on Yukhei as soon as possible instead. ‘You knew?’ he said accusatorily.

   ‘Of course I knew,’ Yukhei rolled his eyes. ‘I told you to get a sugar baby and a few weeks later you rocked up with a runway-ready boyfriend. You haven’t dated properly since college, Tennie, where else would you have met someone like Tyongie?’

   Ten just groaned and closed his eyes, kneading his brow with his palms. Then - ‘You get why it’s _complicated_ , then?’

   Yukhei frowned. ‘Not in the slightest.’

   Ten let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. ‘He didn’t sign up to have someone fall in love with him! He didn’t sign up to get saddled with some lovesick idiot! He wasn’t on that app to fall in love and I’d be naïve to expect him to. And I can’t bear it if he looks me in the eye and tells me that he doesn’t think of me that way.’

   Finally, Yukhei’s face softened. ‘He loves you, Ten.’

   ‘You don’t know that.’

   ‘If you’re so worried about what he signed up to the site for then take a look in the mirror. Did _you_ sign up thinking you’d fall in love? I doubt it. But you did. Why’s it so hard to believe that he’s probably done the same?’

   Ten stared at him. His heart was pounding at the exertion of finally saying all this aloud. ‘I – I - ’

   ‘Look, if it’s one thing I think we’ve all learned, it’s that some people are _meant_ to find each other. Imagine Doyoung’s future if he hadn’t met Jaehyun? Imagine mine if I hadn’t come across Jungwoo just at the right moment? You and Taeyong are meant to be together, Ten, everyone can see it. You’re like… like soulmates. That website was just the world’s way of bringing the two of you together.’

   Doyoung cleared his throat. ‘You lost me somewhere halfway through this conversation, but Yukhei is right, Ten. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Taeyong exhibits all the classic physical signs of attraction when he’s in your presence but far more importantly he looks quite _longingly_ after you whenever he leaves this office after your little lunches.’

   _Your little lunches_. Ten looked down with a smile that he couldn’t quite hide. He’d been inviting Taeyong to lunch with him more and more often, recently. Work was so busy with their plans for the year on rocky ground that he couldn’t get away so much, and so Taeyong came here instead.

   ‘Almost like he wants you to tell him you _love_ him,’ grinned Yukhei. ‘It’s true. So you should just say it.’

   ‘I agree with Yukhei. You should tell him,’ announced Doyoung. ‘But what’s a sugar-’

   ‘Ask your husband,’ intercepted Yukhei.

   Ten chewed his lip, but he was distracted by the rhythmic tap on the door.

   _Taeyong_. He knew that it was him because no one else could make a knock sound so buoyant and so musical.

   ‘Your lunch date is here,’ Yukhei said innocently.

   ‘Alright, clear out you two,’ Ten said as fast as he could, ushering them up and out of his office.

   When he opened the door, Taeyong smiled and waved to the two of them.

   He looked lovely, hair a soft coral, and he was holding up a lunch box. ‘I made lunch!’ he beamed.

   Ten took one look at him, then glanced over his shoulder at Yukhei and Doyoung as they made their way into the reception area. Yukhei was mouthing very clearly: _tell him! T-e-l-l h-i-m!_

Ten looked back to Taeyong and closed the door before Yukhei’s unreliable impulse control led to him making himself _heard_. ‘Hey, Yongie,’ he smiled. ‘How was class this morning?’

   ‘It was okay,’ Taeyong shrugged. He jumped into Ten’s desk chair before Ten could sit down and began to swing it from side to side. ‘We’re mainly going over study material now. Exams are so near.’

   Ten lowered himself into the seat opposite his desk instead and took the lunch Taeyong had made to investigate. ‘You need anything? A tutor?’ He tried to think what else would help with exams.

‘Actually I… well…’ Taeyong shook his head and started to squabble with Ten’s hands over the pieces of lunch that he wanted.

   ‘Tell me,’ said Ten, voice quite firm.

   He had noticed that Taeyong had a real problem with voicing his needs. That hurt Ten, cut him to his core, because he hated the thought that Taeyong might go without something that he could easily provide. So he always did his best to coax out the truth from him.

   ‘There’s just a couple of books I could use… but academic books are _expensive_ ,’ Taeyong groaned with theatre that would have impressed Yukhei. ‘It’s like they think students are made of money.’

   ‘Give me the titles and I’ll have them delivered to your dorm by the evening,’ said Ten.

   Taeyong smiled shyly, but then his eyes brightened up. ‘When I was on the way over here, I saw the most beautiful dove. I don’t usually see many birds in the city. Oh my _God_ Ten I wished you were with me. I took a picture. You wanna see it?’

   Ten nodded, and of course Taeyong showed him.

   He also showed him several other pictures that he’d taken during the day. This was the phone that Ten had bought him a few days earlier, and he was taking more photos than ever with the improved camera.

   At one point, Ten’s desk phone rang, but he cancelled the tone so quickly that Taeyong didn’t even look up from the lunch he was choosing from again. He kept nudging Ten’s fingers out of the way and stealing his choices with a playful smile that made Ten’s heart turn over. Just after he swiped a rice roll right out of his hand, Ten caught his fingers and interlaced them with his.

   Taeyong raised his eyebrows in a question, frozen chewing, cheeks puffed up with everything that he was eating.  

   _I love you_. The words bounced around in Ten’s head. _Say it. Tell him._

   If Yukhei and Doyoung was right, if they were really _soulmates_ , then he had nothing to worry about. Of course Taeyong would say it back. Of _course_. He was the one, right? They were each other’s _one_.

   But he couldn’t do it.

   He’d guarded his heart too carefully for too long.

   ‘You look so beautiful today,’ he sighed instead.

   Taeyong swallowed, cheeks a little pink. ‘I’ve had a nervous breakout because of my exams and I forgot to brush my hair this morning.’

   Ten shrugged, then lifted his hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. You always look gorgeous to me.’

   ‘Even when I’ve just woken up?’

   ‘Especially when you’ve just woken up.’

   ‘Even when I - ’

   ‘Taeyong?’

   ‘Mm?’

   ‘Always. You’re always beautiful. No exceptions.’

   Taeyong looked down to eat again, blushing furiously, and Ten wondered whether he knew that it was true.

   He hoped so.

   Either way, he’d keep telling him every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)
> 
> [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


	3. 5... + 1

   5.

   ‘Wakey wakey,’ hummed Taeyong, pressing a long kiss to Ten’s cheek.

   Ten opened one eye and lifted his brow. ‘I’m already awake.’

   At that, Taeyong shifted his position so that he was propping himself up on Ten’s chest and frowned. ‘How long for?’

   Ten ran his fingertips down Taeyong’s side until his hand rested at his hip and then he pulled him closer so that Taeyong lay down across him, face nestled into his neck. ‘Only a couple of hours. I didn’t want to wake you.’

   ‘What are we going to do today?’

   ‘I’m jet-lagged,’ Ten sighed, ‘can we stay in?’

   It was a sort of half-truth. Ten did feel slightly dazed. He hadn’t slept well overnight, adjusting badly to London time, and there was a dull pain in the back of his head, but that was nothing out of the ordinary; he’d been to 6am meetings with worse jet-lag than this. Really, he wanted to stay in for Taeyong.

   Across his previous trips with him, to New York and to Paris and to Bangkok, he had perfected the ratios that kept Taeyong happy.

   Of the two of them, Taeyong was the more extroverted. He liked to go out, he liked to party, he liked to meet new people. Ten wasn’t so keen on that kind of thing. It wasn’t that he _couldn’t_ do it, in fact as long as Taeyong was with him he even enjoyed it, but it just wasn’t what he’d choose to do. Early on, he’d thought that he needed to make all this sort of thing happen for Taeyong. He’d made sure to take him out every single night to somewhere new. Over the first year of their relationship, though, he had learned that actually Taeyong liked to stay in _too_.

   Why?

   Because Taeyong liked Ten. Far more than he liked anything else.

   It had taken Ten a long time to adjust to believing it. Ten had never had a _person_ of his own. His family had been shared, like a collective, and his parents by sheer necessity had always spent more time with his sister. With his friends, they were three; early on he’d found it hard to settle when he knew that Doyoung and Yukhei had already been friends for years. Finding his place had been hard. And now they were a trio, one of equal love directed multiple ways.

   With Taeyong, though?

   He knew, categorically, especially because his boyfriend reminded him so every day, that he was Taeyong’s favourite person in the world.

   The thought was addictive. Every few moments, Ten allowed it to run through his mind again just so that he could enjoy it. He and Taeyong were each other’s _person_ , their _one_ , their other half of this beautiful whole that they had created together. Ten had always had a deep capacity for love, though it had taken a long time for him to figure out exactly how to express it. Now, though, it radiated from him. Love.

   When Taeyong was happy, like on the day that he’d started his precious internship, Ten felt like everything in his own life was complete – he divided his memories now into those pre-Taeyong, and those _with_ -Taeyong, two different halves. When Taeyong was in pain, as he had been when they’d gone for that fateful visit to meet his parents, Ten would give anything, _anything_ in the world that he possessed or had earned, to take that pain upon himself instead.  

   That was when the reality of love really settled in his chest. It was when he felt every one of Taeyong’s emotions as vividly as if they were his own.

   ‘Mmhm. And tomorrow?’ asked Taeyong as he tapped his fingers down Ten’s chest.

   ‘Sotheby’s,’ murmured Ten. He had his eye on an art collection at a scheduled auction. ‘And afterwards I’ll take you shopping. You know the deal: holidays are when I get to spoil you.’

   ‘If you _must_ ,’ Taeyong sighed theatrically. He rolled off the bed and picked up the fluffy white hotel robe that he’d left abandoned on the floor the previous night. ‘ _Only_ because I know it makes you happy.’

   Ten smiled and propped himself up on the bundle of pillows. He loved to watch Taeyong potter around in the mornings. ‘You love the things I buy you. I see that little sparkle in your eye whenever I give you a present.’

   Taeyong tilted his chin up. ‘It’s the sugar baby in me.’

   ‘I do _love_ that part of you,’ Ten grinned. ‘Cute and sweet and born to be pampered.’

   ‘Speaking of pampering, can we go to the spa later?’ asked Taeyong with his _I-want-us-to-do-this_ pout. ‘I promise a massage will get rid of your jet-lag.’

   Ten frowned in contemplation. Taeyong liked the spas in all the of the hotels they visited. Ten wasn’t _such_ a fan. ‘How about I give you a massage and you can give me one?’ he suggested instead. ‘You know I’m looking forward to getting my hands on you in a whole new country, right?’

   Taeyong smirked as he picked up the room service menu and skipped back to bed. ‘Okay. I’m _definitely_ not arguing with that. Spa tomorrow evening?’

   ‘Deal.’

   Taeyong planted himself between Ten’s legs and rested his head back on his shoulder, eyes almost on the ceiling as he thumbed through the menu. ‘ _Oscietra caviar breakfast_ ,’ he said aloud.

   ‘You won’t like it, baby.’

   ‘ _Crushed avocado with sourdough_ oh yeah,’ he nodded.

   Ten pulled a face. ‘Well I’m not eating that but if _you_ want to be healthy...’

   ‘ _Oak smoked Scottish salmon._ ’

   ‘Are we reading the whole menu?’ Ten laughed.

   ‘I’m working on my pronunciation,’ huffed Taeyong.

   Ten kissed his forehead. ‘You sound lovely. Sourdough and all.’

   Taeyong had been working so hard, recently, on his languages. That made Ten happy, even though he wished that he wouldn’t load so much extra work on himself now that his final year of college was in full swing. Taeyong had even taken a class, though, for his English, so that would count for his grade. His voice sounded pretty in every language, but Ten especially loved to listen to him talk in Thai. It took him to a place: home.

   Taeyong was his home.

   He had been from the very moment that he’d first told him to think about what home might smell like. This thought in his mind, he pressed a kiss to the crown of Taeyong’s head and breathed in the familiar shampoo. ‘May I ask you something?’

   ‘Hmm?’ Taeyong hummed, eyes still on the menu.

   ‘Picket fence…’ started Ten, and that made Taeyong look up. Their future was Taeyong’s favourite topic of conversation. Ten could tell. ‘Where do you see our home being?’

   Taeyong looked at him in surprise. ‘Our apartment.’

   ‘You’ve never thought about somewhere else?’ Ten nodded to the floor-to-ceiling window opposite that was currently bright with a rare winter sun over the London skyline.

   ‘Like… you mean not Seoul?’

   ‘We go to all sorts of places,’ said Ten, ‘Paris… Bangkok… New York… London… I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay in Seoul forever just because of me.’

   ‘You need to be in Seoul for work.’

   ‘Not necessarily,’ said Ten. ‘We have offices in most of the major business centres. Once you graduate, I want you to feel like you have every opportunity in the world. If the US would be better for your career, then we’ll go. If you picture yourself in Paris then we’ll go there.’

   ‘Seoul,’ said Taeyong, without pause. ‘I see our home in Seoul.’

   ‘You do?’

   ‘Seoul’s my home. Like you said once, it’s where I built my life. I can’t imagine living somewhere else.’

   ‘Good,’ Ten exhaled, ‘because the thought of leaving Doyoung and Yukhei would be…’

   ‘Not gonna happen,’ laughed Taeyong softly. ‘Okay, then I have a question for you: when you look at our future, what do you see?’

   Ten stared at him, for once lost for words.

   He dared not voice every reality that he had planned for them. Taeyong hadn’t even graduated college yet and he didn’t want to alarm him with talk of the distant future.

   But it hit him, as he thought, just exactly what the answer to that question was:

   _Everything_.

   He searched every familiar feature to remind himself of them all over again, and then he allowed himself to think it.

   _I’m going to marry you._

The thought had been processed many times before but only in the abstract sense. Of course he knew that he would marry Taeyong; his visions of their future were that they were together forever, that they would grow old together. Marriage was, in his mind, a natural part of that.

   But that was abstract.

   Now, in this moment, it was real.

   _I’m going to marry him_ , he thought, _I’m going to ask him to marry me_.

   His stomach flipped over.

   Was it too soon? They’d been together a year and a half, edging ever closer to two years. _Fuck_. He needed Doyoung. Doyoung would be able to tell him the exact statistics on the average number of months before proposal. _Was_ it too soon?

   Taeyong was so _young_.

   Was it fair to saddle him with himself just when he was starting his future?

   But then again, all this picket fence talk had begun because of Taeyong. He was the one that talked animatedly about their future on the regular. He was the one that only a couple of weeks earlier had casually mentioned how he knew Ten was going to be such a good parent. He was the one that joked about how Ten would still be buying him chokers once they were both old and grey.

   _Taeyong wants it_.

   A year ago, he had been terrified that if he told Taeyong that he loved him, he might not say it back.

   Ten knew him better now, though. He knew him better than he knew anyone. And he knew that Taeyong wanted it all.

   _I’m going to marry you_ , he thought again, eyes on Taeyong’s like he could send the message by sheer fervency of gaze.

   ‘I see much more pink in the apartment,’ he said out loud. ‘And I see you, putting your first producing award front and centre on the mantlepiece.’

   A thought that he’d never put into words before found its way to the forefront of his mind. A realisation.

   From this day onward, he would never have a day, not ever for the rest of his life, when he didn’t get to speak to Taeyong. Maybe there would be a day when he didn’t get to see him, because their schedules would conflict, but he would be able to phone him. Always.

   If he lived old… _God_ he needed Doyoung’s maths again…

   He ran a rough calculation.

   If he lived to be old, to his nineties even, he could have another twenty-two- _thousand_ days with Taeyong at least. Twenty-two- _thousand_ more of these little moments, these special mornings. There would never be a day without his voice.

   Sometimes he thought about his life pre-Taeyong as expansive, long years without his love. Now, though, a third of his life paled in comparison to the future. He had two _times_ that to spend _with_ Taeyong. If those previous years had seemed long, then these next two thirds would be longer, because he’d cherish every minute of every day with undiluted passion.

   Taeyong was the one, the only one, the one person that he could visualise himself spending every single day of the rest of his life with.

   So of course he would marry him.

 

   6.

   It was Ten’s thirteenth meeting of the week, and, indeed, the first of two which really mattered.

   ‘I’ve selected several diamonds that I think you’ll be interested in. Are you still adamant on lab-grown?’

   Ten raised his eyebrows. ‘I run an environmental business. Yes, I’m _adamant_ on lab-grown.’

   The trader looked a little disappointed. He was the sort of character who was the very opposite of Ten; there was an air of _old money_ , of superiority, and of mystique, as though he was the rarity, rather than his product. Still, he unfolded the velvety wrappings carefully, in sequence, and Ten leant so close that his nose was in danger of touching the table.

   ‘You asked for pink,’ said the dealer, as he opened out a grouping of five tiny, pink diamonds in varying degrees of intensity.

   ‘Mm,’ Ten exhaled. ‘These… these are better.’

   ‘The pink diamonds are of course at the upper end of the price scale, but - ’   

   ‘Money is no object,’ Ten said abruptly. ‘All I care about is that it’s beautiful.’

   ‘This, I put aside for you,’ he said, lifting a large, round diamond of vivid pink between a set of tweezers.

   Ten cocked his head sideways as he examined it, adjusting his glasses. ‘It might be a little large.’

   The dealer looked surprised. ‘I’m surprised,’ he said, unnecessarily. ‘For most men who claim money no object, the bigger the better. They like to stamp as many carats as possible on their girlfriends’ hands.’

   Ten shook his head. ‘Not for me. Taeyong works in music, I don’t want him worrying about catching some huge rock on something every time he moves his hand.’

   ‘So smaller?’

   ‘I’m thinking a three stone setting,’ Ten mused. ‘Maybe something traditional in the centre. Then two pink diamonds to frame.’

   He nodded.

   ‘Big enough that they catch the light because he does like _statement_ , but small enough that they can sit as flush to the band as possible.’

   ‘I’ll get in contact with your designer,’ remarked the trader. ‘For something so bespoke we need to co-ordinate.’

   The ring-designer that Ten had contacted was far more understated. She was the same jeweller who had designed and engraved Doyoung and Jaehyun’s wedding rings years ago, and she had even been responsible for the updated trilogy of rings that Ten shared with Yukhei and Doyoung. This was important. For the design, he trusted only someone with heart, not just diamonds.

   She worked out of a small shop, buried in a side street downtown. In the back room, she met with Ten, two days later, at a narrow work desk. Everything about the place was natural, even messy, quite quiet. In front of her, she had a piece of paper. There was no drag-and-drop computer image, no complex array of designs, only paper and a pencil where she’d draw up the most important item that he would ever hold.

   In Ten’s eyes, it made sense that something so precious would start out as art on paper.

   ‘Why don’t you tell me about him?’

   Ten sat back. ‘He’s… he’s not flashy, but he sparkles.’

   ‘Do you have a picture?’

   At this, Ten nodded rapidly. He pulled out his wallet, and took out the three photos of Taeyong that he kept slotted into the various pockets. One was a photo-booth image that they had taken together, Taeyong balanced on his lap. One was a polaroid that he had taken in Paris of Taeyong outside a florists. The third was a picture of the two of them at his parents’ home in Thailand.

   ‘I have more,’ he said as he pushed them across the desk. He tapped his phone into life and swivelled it around to show the lockscreen. Then the homescreen. He picked it back up to navigate into his photos only for himself now, easily distracted. He had so many. He had silly photos that Taeyong would send him while he was at work, pulling ridiculous faces. He had _provocative_ photos of Taeyong that he would never share with anyone else but that he flitted back to occasionally, though the passion had been in taking them rather than reviewing them. He had romantic photos of the two of them together, so many of those.

   ‘Taeyong is… Taeyong is like a diamond,’ he said, quickly reminding himself to put away his phone as she picked up the polaroid. ‘He is… pure and beautiful and radiant. He shines. He’s precious and completely irreplaceable, priceless.’

   He couldn’t talk about Taeyong without becoming hopelessly effusive.

   ‘The two of you look so happy.’

   Ten exhaled a long breath. ‘We are. He is. I am. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this happy.’

   ‘Any plans for the proposal?’ she asked, and Ten noticed that she had already started to sketch something. He tried not to look at it.

   ‘I have a few ideas. I thought about going to Venice, but it wouldn’t be right for us. I take him away on holidays all the time, it would be… well it wouldn’t be special, like it’s no bigger deal than all the other times we go away. He needs something warm and cute and… something like him. I think it’ll be at home. He loves our home so much.’

   ‘And you want two rings?’

   ‘The one for me…’ he sighed, ‘… nothing over the top, please.’

   ‘You’re not into sparkles?’ she said with a small smile.

   ‘Not unless he’s the one wearing them,’ he responded. ‘And I do work in business so it needs to be something that I can wear with a suit. I’d rather not ever have to remove it, after all. But at the same time, I want it to match. Like there’s a little of him in my ring too. Is that possible?’

   ‘Oh I have a few ideas,’ she laughed, using his words. ‘When did you realise that he was the one?’

   ‘I realise it every day,’ he said with a weak shrug as though there was no possible way that he could pinpoint it. ‘The first time I saw him. The first time we kissed. The first time I told him that I loved him. The first time that I took him to meet my parents. _That_ was a big one. He’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever taken home.’

   ‘Your parents liked him?’

   ‘They love him. My mom… I’ve never seen her so overjoyed. I think she thought that maybe I’d never find someone. I didn’t exactly date a lot before Taeyong. She’s been calling him her son-in-law ever since and we haven’t even finished the rings yet,’ he said with a soft laugh.

   ‘Have you told them that you’re going to propose?’

   Ten nodded. ‘Yes. I called them for advice right away. Usually I’d ask my friends but you’ve met Yukhei and you know he’d never let me hear the end of it.’

   ‘And his parents? Did you speak to his father? I know some people like the tradition.’

   ‘Oh God no,’ Ten pulled a face. ‘They are _not_ in the picture. Although I do hope that they see our engagement in the news and feel especially bitter about it.’

   She raised her eyebrows.

   ‘Sorry,’ he said quickly, ‘it’s a sore spot.’

   ‘Where do you imagine the wedding?’ she moved on.

   ‘I don’t know,’ he mused. ‘He’ll want to be in charge of all that sort of thing, I know that much already. There’s nothing that could make Taeyong happier than planning our wedding, trust me. I’ll just be there to make sure that he gets everything he wants. I want it to be the day that all his dreams come true.’

   She looked at him for a moment, and then smiled. ‘You look like a man in love.’

   Ten wanted to groan, a little embarrassed, but nowhere near as badly as he would have been a year or two ago. He was very proud of the man that he had grown into with Taeyong, the softer one.

   ‘Every day I wake up and it hits me all over again. I’m the luckiest man alive. I found my other half. He is everything that I’m not in all the ways I need, but he’s similar to me too in the all the ways that are important. He lets me take care of him, because he knows I need to do it and you know what? He needs to feel protected too. But he’s also ferocious and independent and he marches through his life with focus and strength. He’s gentle and positive and he calms me down when I’m stressed, but he’ll fight for me too when he needs to. I wouldn’t mess with him. I never used to believe in soulmates but if it’s possible, then he’s the one. He’s the only person for me. We were made to be together.’

   She was nodding.

   ‘And you know what? I say all this _grandiose_ stuff like those are the things that matter, but honestly it’s the little things that count. It’s the way that when I wake up in the morning, he’s still asleep but he pulls me closer like he doesn’t want me to get out of bed. It’s the way that when he laughs he throws his head back, and he’ll pull down his cap or hide his face because he knows he turns red. It’s the way that in the evenings he’ll edge a blanket ever steadily more over me like he thinks I won’t notice, but he wants to keep me warm. It’s the way he challenges me, all the time; he teases me, he prods at me, and no one else dares to do that but he just giggles his way along and it makes me feel this thrill and…’

   He paused for a second.

   ‘Sorry. I get a little carried away when I talk about him.’

   She smiled and turned the paper around to show him her sketches. ‘Well, I’d say that’s a good sign.’

*

   Ten checked himself in the nearest shop window before he rounded the corner where he would meet Taeyong. He tried to put on a more sober face. As far as his boyfriend knew, he was returning from a long business meeting. He could hardly look quite so excited. He settled his expression and then straightened his jacket. Even now, he liked to look his very best for Taeyong.

   He was just about to turn the corner when he stopped, taking in the small building that ended the terrace. It was an animal shelter.

   Warm and cute. Something like _him_.

   Ten shook his head and laughed to himself. No. That was one ridiculous idea too far.

   He turned the corner and immediately started to scan the midday crowds for his Taeyong.

   It wasn’t long before he spotted him.

   The lilac hair rather gave him away.

   ‘Good meeting?’ asked Taeyong as soon as they were reunited and Ten took his hands in his.

   ‘Oh, you know,’ he shrugged, ‘as good as a meeting can be. Where do you want to go for lunch?’

   ‘The waffle place.’

   Ten leant in and kissed him, unable to help himself. The first design for the ring he’d soon give to him seemed to be burning a hole in his jacket’s inside pocket. He couldn’t push away the thought. He needed to exhale some of the pent-up love at least, even if he couldn’t share the secret. ‘Dessert for lunch _again_?’

   ‘Always.’

   Taeyong started to pull him cheerily back the other way by the hand, but Ten stopped them for a moment. ‘Yongie?’

   ‘Yes Tennie?’ he said, bottom lip prominent in that ever-questioning pout.

   ‘I love you,’ he breathed. ‘Just in case I haven’t told you enough times already today.’

   ‘I love you too,’ Taeyong pecked a barely-there kiss back to his lips. ‘You’re not usually this romantic after _meetings_. What’s got you all mushy?’

   ‘Nothing,’ said Ten. ‘Sometimes I just remember you’re the one and I can’t help myself.’

   ‘The one, huh?’ He looked smug. ‘That must have been a _very_ good meeting.’

   ‘Baby,’ he wrapped an arm around his waist, ‘it’s not the meeting, it’s you. You know it’s always you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who read this far I really love you <3 I started Little Things a long time ago back when LC was in its latter stages and I’ve waited so long to share it. I’m stunned that people still follow this story even though it finished many months ago now. You all have my heart!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)   
>  [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


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